


Bring Me Home

by Marius2045



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:50:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marius2045/pseuds/Marius2045
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones is afraid that he won't make it home, but there's always a Jim Kirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> Not mine, just borrowed, no harm is done. No beta, sorry for that. First try at Star Trek fic so please be gentle.

**  
**

 

The doors slid open with a hissing sound and closed behind Jim’s back. He stopped short when he saw a flickering light so small it hardly reached his feet. He heard a lone guitar playing a tune he ought to know. A single voice drifted quietly through the quarters, rough with grief and filled with so much longing it made his heart ache. Jim tried to remember where he’d heard the song before as much as he tried to find the man playing it.

“Bones?”

The singing vanished in the dimly lit room, but the guitar kept playing the sad song. Jim thought that it sounded almost shy by now.

Taking a deep breath, he walked through the near darkness towards the bed. Bones’ voice drifted once more through his quarters and Jim’s heart seemed to stop beating for a second, his breath hitching in his throat as he listened to the words sounding even more pained by now.

 

_“If I should die don't bury me_

_Or leave me to the sea_

_Send my bones back to my home_

_Where my spirit can be free.”_

 

Jim swallowed down the sudden dread threatening to overwhelm him and took a last step. There he was, Leonard McCoy, his Bones, sitting cross-legged on his bed, seeing nothing but his fingers thrumming quietly over the old six-string sitting in his lap. One single candle sat on the nightstand, illuminating the hunched figure with a soft light.

And here he stood, James T. Kirk the smart-mouthed, always bold and freshly declared Captain of the USS Enterprise, not daring to move any closer, thinking while he stood unmoving in the door-frame that it was a dream, which would disappear in shreds of clouds if he stepped deeper into it.

“Bones?” Jim hated how small his voice sounded, how worried.

_“We were far from the shores of England, far from our children and wives…”_

McCoy’s voice broke off completely with a hardly suppressed noise sounding suspiciously close to a sob. A single tear ran down his unshaven face, leaving a silver line Jim would have loved to trace back to the source of the unwelcome misery so openly displayed before his eyes.

“What is it, Bones?” Jim finally could move, sitting down slowly on the small bed beside McCoy as if he wouldn’t want to spook him. His hand moved to the small of Bones’ back, trying with soft circling motions to bring him back from his dreary thoughts. “Tell me. Please?”

Bones voice was barely audible over the hushed melody still springing from his fingers. “Remember the day, when we met in the shuttle bringing us to the Academy? Remember what I told you in my drunken state of mind?”

Jim thought back on that day and Bones’ voice echoed somewhere in the back of his head, loud and clear. The edge of fear was something he would never be able to forget.

“Disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.”

Jim thought that his own voice held parts of the fear Bones had felt back then, but it had nothing to do with the danger from outer space, but everything with the thought that Bones might decide to leave space after all, leave him.

The dark rumble of McCoy’s voice sounded forlorn and hardly slipped past suddenly suppressed sobs. The melody faded off into the almost darkness.

“What… what if I will never make it home to see my Joanna again?”

Slightly taken aback, Jim had to swallow hard before he could answer even though he sounded not nearly as convincing as he should.

“Of course you will, Bones. Why is it that you doubt this now of all things? Why is it that you… doubt me?”

The sullen question was all he could muster, the melody suddenly getting to him much more than he wanted to admit.

“All the people Nero killed, all the cadets, almost the entire population of Vulcan, they all had a home or wanted to go there, too and now they are dead.”

Bones trailed of, for a moment uncertain it seemed before he went on matter-of-factly.

“Your father never made it home.”

It felt like a blow.

Jim’s hand stilled on the shivering body, hardly feeling the warmth it radiated. For a moment he felt lost, his mother’s words in his ears, the sadness back when she had said the exact same thing to him after he’d just turned five. She must have thought back then that he was old enough to know; old enough to accept the fact that his father was truly gone and a Frank had taken his place instead.

“I am not my father. Neither are you. We go home.”

He had spoken with such finality that Bones looked up from his guitar for the first time since Jim came to his room.

“How do you know?” Desperation was in his question and something that could be mistaken by hope.

“Because I am James Tiberius Kirk?”

Bones couldn’t help and smile at the ridiculous confidence. A smirk stole itself onto Jim’s face brightening his blue eyes for a moment before he became serious again. His hand continued to rub over the broad back under his palm, a steady reminder that he was here and meant it.

“I promise, Bones. I’ll bring you home. Always.”

 

 


End file.
